Body language
by tophis1
Summary: A collection of interactions between our favorite killers. Cute Erik/Sweeney Todd
1. Sewer Greetings

Moving as quietly as possible, Sweeney Todd made his way through the sewers, clutching his knife as tightly as his shaky fingers could. He had to get away. He had to leave Paris, if not the entire continent.

It was all that damnable Lovettes' fault! She had lied to him, used him, taken in that traitorous boy...

Made him kill his beloved Lucy...

He stumbled slightly, a wave of grief and realization hitting him with enough force to make him fall against the nearest wall. He clawed at the stones, keeping himself on shaky feet for a few more minutes so he could compose himself.

But it was useless, and he knew that now. All was lost; he was a broken man, hardened by prison and uncontrollable rage. Lucy would never have taken him back, even if she had been sane and their daughter had not been snatched away. If he had been there, none of this would have happened. His loved ones were gone. He was all that was left.

The next wave knocked him off his feet and he fell to the ground, sobbing like a child. He screamed and moaned her name, wishing with a dying mans prayer that all could go back to the way it was. He knew the police would be in the sewers by now, looking for him, but he didn't care. He continued on like this until he felt his throat tear. After a few hours of this, he slumped forward and curled onto his side, prepared for death to take him.

Instead, a gloved hand began stroking back his hair. He shook from the cold and from a fear he wished wasn't there. He should greet his death with open arms, but... he wasn't truly ready to die and that alone was enough to make new tears slip.

"Such an unhappy soul." was all the unknown man muttered in a deep, soothing voice. Before Sweeney could think on it, a pair of strong arms had lifted him up, cradling him against an equally strong chest. As Sweeney looked up at the dimly lit and perfectly formed face, he vaguely wondered if this was his angel of death before slipping away.

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	2. Unwanted Afflictions

"you're awake."

Sweeney jumped, spinning around with his knife extended to ward off the mans approach. "not a step closer!"

The man didn't appear affected by this and stood just out of the knifes reach, pokerfaced with his hands behind his back. He looked away from the knife to meet Mr. Todds' gaze. "a barber." He raised a brow and smiled. "Might I ask what on earth you did to get the police to chase you?"

"Why am I here?" Sweeney demanded, lifting the knife to point at Eriks head.

"I believe-" Erik swiftly pushed against the raised arm, knocking the knife out of Sweeneys weak hold, and shoved the man against the edge of the bed, making him fall onto the dark sheets ungracefully. "I asked you a question first." He smirked openly at the smaller mans shocked look. "it's only polite to answer."

"I-it... Is my business." He tried to give him a harsh glare, but it didn't hold as much fire as he wanted. "Where are they? Waiting outside?"

At this, the masked man laughed good naturedly. "The authority doesn't hold any power down here. This is my world, and I chose to save you from your own self destruction. They would have surely found you with all that wailing you did." Sweeney blushed, but tried to hide it.

"you shouldn't meddle in other peoples affairs! I wanted them to kill me!" he didn't truly believe his words, but it stopped the other man from taunting him further.

"I brought you here because you are not ready to die." Erik frowned. "you're just heartbroken, but you will heal."

"You have no right to tell me what I am." he seethed.

Erik took a step towards him, making Sweeney flinch slightly, but instead of hitting him, Erik brushed back a strand of hair. His eyes were soft and comforting. "I know exactly what you're feeling. My heart felt like it would never feel compassion again and I was ready to crawl away and let myself die, but somewhere inside me I knew I couldn't. Not really. There is still so much to do."

They sat still for a while, watching each other. Eventually, Erik stood and made his way to the door. "lunch is ready, if you're hungry." Sweeney clutched the bedding, feeling his erratic heart slow down to a livable pace. There was a lurching swirl in his stomach, like he was about to tumble off a cliff.

What had just happened?


	3. Traps Galore

Erik stood in the doorway, arms crossed and face stern.  
>"This is why you don't run off on your own."<br>Sweeney continued to pout, but it didn't faze Erik at all. The only thing he'd hurt was his pride. Nothing to worry about.  
>"I shouldn't have to worry about falling into random traps! You forced me here as a 'guest'. Could you not deactivate them?" He spat, shaking with embarrassment and anger.<br>Though it was highly amusing to watch the younger man act like a spiteful toddler, he needed to get him out of the lower levels before he activated some other trap. Erik quickly ushered him out of the cell he'd landed himself in, then wrapped his warm cloak around the mans shoulders.  
>"You'll catch a cold, you daft fool. Its time for dinner anyway."<br>They walked in silence, comfortable with only a torch for a meager light. Despite Sweeney's obvious handicap, Erik had no trouble at all finding his way back to the main rooms and avoiding traps. He'd often warn him of a stone or bit of wall that shouldn't be touched, which meant he had to stick close to Erik at all times to avoid detonating something truly awful.  
>The phantom grinned to himself. Half of the traps he was making up, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. He loved the way Sweeney loosely held his sleeve, pressed himself against his back, watched his moves carefully to see which stone was bad, even the exasperated scowl that grew stronger every time he told him to be careful.<br>"we're here." Erik whispered, taking hold of 's hand and slowly prying it off his sleeve. Sweeney quickly snatched his hand away. "You could say thank you."  
>"for what?" He growled. "I didn't know you had a thing for messing with peoples minds! Its like a maze down here!"<br>"all you had to do was-"  
>"I will NOT ask for permission to LEAVE! I should already have that right!" He fumbled with the clasp until he unhooked the material and flung it at the other mans feet.<br>Erik looked down at it, then back up to his companion, watching the way the torch light twisted his angry expression into something ugly. He glared, feeling his own anger boil. He grabbed Sweeney's forearm roughly and proceeded to drag him towards a new doorway, leaving the torch behind. He stumbled after him for what felt like forever in complete darkness. After a while, Sweeney was blinded with an intense white light.  
>Next thing he knew, he was thrown to the ground. He held his arm over his eyes, but he heard a heavy door slam shut behind him. He had been abandoned out in the back alley of the opera house.<br>Sweeney eventually was able to blink past the pain and look around. No one was around to watch such an odd spectacle, which was good.  
>Sweeney let out a shaky breath before he stood and dusted off his pants. He didn't know where he was supposed to go now; as long as it wasn't back there! <p>


	4. Return

It had taken nearly four hours, but Erik was calmed enough to see his mistake. The man was a wanted criminal and he'd shoved him out into the real world to be caught by law enforcement. From what he'd gathered, the man had killed scores of people in the name of love, or so he said. He'd done something similar. He of all people should know that hardship.  
>But the man was a twit, which is why he was watching him from the shadows, not making a real move to help. Why would he offer the protection of his home to someone so ungrateful, AGAIN? He'd made it clear he didn't want to be there. Maybe he'd changed his mind by now.<br>Maybe _not_.  
>So he continued to stalk, deciding that he would only interfere if someone threatened this man. Until then, he'd let him suffer the cold, open, exposed air in broad daylight. This man would learn his mistake in time.<br>Of course, it wasn't that hard for a man with a striking white streak of hair (a truly odd style choice that Erik would question later) to be noticed. Someone had informed the police and, in no time, had him cornered.  
>This was his chance, Erik decided. He'd rescue him, offer his home, and have a willing companion once again.<br>What he hadn't expected was that Sweeney could take care of himself.  
>There were three cops with only clubs for protection. They were far too confident, sharing snarky remarks with each other and cornering him behind someones house. Mr. Todd didn't seem worried, though. He slipped something silver from his pocket and waited until one was close enough to touch. In a flash, he slit the mans throat and jumped the second. Before Erik could think to help, the three were dead. Sweeney took the corner of his shirt and began tenderly wiping the blood from his knives.<br>"Come out, useless shadow." Mr. Todd growled without looking up. Even though he had come to fear the Phantoms odd powers while in his own domain, he felt much safer here, now that the other man saw what he could do. He didn't even flinch when a dark figure skulked from seemingly nowhere and stood before him.  
>"My behavior was uncalled for." He started, murmuring quietly. He stood so close that his breath tickled Sweeneys brow. It almost felt intimate, but it only reminded him of how much shorter he was. He didn't like it.<br>"No." He barked. "Don't think you can apologize. I do not wish to go back." He spun around, ready to leave the alley when he heard a large number of voices from around the corner. More police were on their way. He paused mid-stride, frowning as he thought over his limited choices.  
>He felt a hand snake around his middle and pull him back into the shadows. "I won't force you to stay, but perhaps its the best option until things die down." Erik reasoned, lightly resting his head against Sweeneys soft hair. "I will deactivate one of the paths for you."<br>"Promise?" Sweeney winced at how childish that sounded, but he had no way of ensuring he was telling the truth. He wouldn't mind Eriks labyrinth if he was allowed to leave.  
>"Yes." He whispered as more police men filled the alley, making frantic motions and gestures towards the dead bodies. Sweeney pressed further into him, wanting to be away from these men. Erik didn't say anything about this uncharacteristic behavior. He'd grown to hate men too.<br>They stood like that for quite a while, waiting for the men to scatter enough for them to slip into a different shadow and, eventually, out into the streets. Sweeney didn't understand how they went so unnoticed when he was covered in blood and his companion wore a mask. Perhaps Eriks odd powers weren't just limited to his underground home.  
>"Here we are." Sweeney shivered at the hot breath in his hair. He hadn't noticed how close the man was.<br>Erik held the door open expectantly, waiting to see if the barber was skittish enough to run. It seemed the man was over his anger and strode confidently past him into the darkness. Erik smiled, closing the door behind them.


	5. Sweeney Pouts-A-Lot

Sweeney proved to be a difficult man. His most prominent trait being that he held grudges like no other. This behavior, coupled with how he acted while giving the 'cold shoulder', made Erik feel like he had a pet cat rather than human companion.

At the moment, the shorter man was angry about another trap he'd accidentally fallen into a few days ago. Erik was not affected by his moody behavior, since this was the fifth time he'd gone through the anger cycle this week.

In the mornings he would refuse to eat until Erik left the room.

After, he would quietly curl up on a chair on the other side of the beach while Erik played the piano- the scowl never leaving his face even though the other man could not see it.

Once he realized Erik was not paying attention to his anger, he would wait until lunch time to scream that he would leave again if Erik did not disable all the traps (or whatever it was that he was angry about)

Then, directly after dinner, he would go to bed early and not make a single sound. If by chance Erik were to break his own cycle (thus breaking the one Sweeney had made) the barber would go straight to rant mode, then go to bed without eating.

Erik discreetly peeked over his book at the man curled in a tight ball a few feet away in his personal favorite chair. He was sulking. And it was adorable.

The fact that Erik thought this came as little surprise. He had never been raised religious, minus the few times Antoinette had insisted he pray or at least look into Catholicism, so he was not told that homosexuality was "wrong". He had gathered as much from the talks back stage, but it didn't bother him. When you were touch starved, it didn't matter who or what physical contact came from.

"I'm going to start dinner." Erik said as he stood, setting his book on a table nearby. "Would you like to set the table, ?" He moved in front of the man and offered his hand to the angry man.

Sweeney merely scrunched his face into a deeper scowl, then left in a hurry, off to some secret sleeping place that Erik had yet to find. (another thing he would need to look into)

Erik laughed aloud, making Sweeney blush and walk faster.


	6. Christine

There was a sliding sound, as if wood was moving against more wood. Erik had learned to let go of his caution while deep within the bowels of his home, since there are so many traps set up and little threat of an actual intruder. And if he were to remain tense at all times, the sound of scurrying rats would surely drive him mad.

But that didn't mean he wasn't suspicious of the sounds coming from one of his storage rooms. With a flick of the wrist, Erik had his noose freed from its strap at his hip and ready in his hands. After listening for a moment more, assessing where the person was, and deciding that it was most definitely monsieur Todd, he quietly turned into the room and crept behind the man. The barber was looking through paintings, holding them in the candle light then occasionally setting a few aside for some unknown purpose. The Phantom smirked, securing the rope around the other mans neck and giving it a strong enough tug to tighten, but not constrict.

In his best 'menacing' voice, he growled "Beg, mortal, for your life. If you grovel properly, I might even grant it."

Sweeney remained sitting with a bemused expression, not even bothering to look at him. "I stand by my first impression. You are a horrible host." He reached up to loosen the rope and release himself. "And an awful specter."

Erik chuckled as he coiled the noose and put it back in its holder. "What are you doing with my paintings?"

The man paused, glancing at his little pile. On top was a painting of the overhead view of a ballet practice. "You have done all of these?" His voice came out awed before he had the mind to stop himself.

"Yes." Erik looked through the selected paintings. "Some of them... are older than others." He chuckled at his sketches of Carlotta as various yipping dogs. Just behind it is a painting of Christine in a wedding dress, which gives him pause. "What are you going to do with them?"

Mr. Todd takes no notice to his somber attitude. "I wish to hang them. If I will be staying here, I want something to look at. These-" Now he held up a painting of a moonlit lake in a deep forest. "are interesting and deserve some limelight, wouldn't you say?" He shifted to look back at the masked man. Erik was seemingly lost in thought, stroking a finger against the painted brown curls. After a moment of studying his companion, Sweeney went back through his discarded pile, finding quite a few pictures of the same girl, usually smiling and wearing something white, which contrasted against her dark hair.

"She broke your heart."

Erik froze. His glowing eyes focused in on the other man for a moment before returning to the painting. "She did much more than that." He muttered. His expression became pinched, as if in physical pain; his hands balled into fists that threatened to go through the canvas. Without another word, the Phantom vanished out the doorway, nothing but a wisp of cloak before his presence was nothing but a memory. Sweeney watched the door for a moment before going back to the paintings, feeling as though he had a much clearer picture of his mysterious companion than before.


End file.
